Seven
by Maiden of the Moon
Summary: Pride. Envy. Sloth. Anger. Greed. Gluttony. Lust. (ChronoRosette)
1. Superbia

_Disclaimer: I don't own Chrono Crusade, but in some parallel universe. . . I probably still don't. _

_Author's Note: Don't ask me where this idea came from. I honestly don't know. I was just scanning the titles of the CC fan fiction and suddenly this just popped into my head. (sweat drop) So. . . Yea? _

Anyway, obviously this will be seven chapters long, and more or less just like a collection of longish ficlets. Their only relation to one another? The fact that each will be centered around a deadly sin. Some, admittedly, more seriously than others. But there ya go.

_Note that these won't all be solemn. Two, I can already promise, will be more on the humorous side. _

_  
Also, I should note that this in NO WAY relates to the creepy movie by the same title. (It is a good movie, though. Did anyone else laugh when Tom Cruise couldn't decided whether or not to shoot that guy? I mean, come on- he looked kinda stupid when he kept raising the gun and lowering the gun and raising the gun and lowering the gun. . . So much for the dramatic climax.) _

Please enjoy!

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**SEVEN**

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_**Sin One: Superbia**_

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It was ironic, she mused, staring out the convent window in her coarse woolen pajamas. Reaching a hand underneath her nightdress, she scrubbed feverishly at her ankle; hoping to rid herself of the itches she felt. No good. But still- very ironic indeed. . .

Rosette frowned, continuing down the tracks of this train of thoughtful contemplation.

She had grown up in an orphanage. She'd been sharing bedrooms and hand-me-down clothes all of her life. She worked day and night for the common good. She was a _nun_.

But she was still one of the most vain people she knew.

Well, perhaps vain was a bit too strong of a word- but not totally out of the ballpark, much as she disliked to admit it. _Sister Kate _didn't mind saying it though- screamed it at her whenever she asked for a bit of make up to wear, or cooed appreciatively over the gowns she got to float around in during special missions.

She preferred to think of herself, as Chrono had so well put it, as 'simple'. Even if that, too, was derogatory.

But really, was her "simplicity" so bad? She had so few things in her life that she could be conceited or selfish about. The few things in the past that she'd ever truly cherished (materialistically, anyway) had been continually taken from her.

She'd loved her doll collection- that had been confiscated after her parents died.

She'd loved her little powder mirror- the one her mother had given her to play with. That, too, had been lost in the move to Seventh Bell.

She'd loved her braids- but they got in the way during exorcist training and had been mercilessly chopped off.

Hell- if she were to stretch the truth a bit and call Joshua a "material," she could even argue that she lost him. Her beloved little brother- stolen from her because she was too stubborn to let him go where it was safe. Because she thought that she was strong and smart enough to protect and help him.

_Yeah_. That had worked.

And now the sister sat, with a small smile of dark amusement on her face, staring out at the moon- scratching herself like there was no tomorrow. Perhaps, someday, she'd manage to save up enough money to buy a new pair of pjs- a pair made of soft silk, like the ones Satella wore. But probably not. . . What with the way she continually destroyed things, and the luck she had with anything that made her look or feel a little too bigheaded.

'Hmm. . .' she thought, tugging on a stray lock of her blonde tresses with an irritated sort of air. 'Maybe I should just sleep naked.'

At least then she could move without wanting to peal her skin off.

**x**

_**Sin One: Pride**_

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	2. Invidia

_Disclaimer: I don't own Chrono Crusade, but in some parallel universe. . . I probably still don't. _

_Author's Note: See chapter one. _

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**SEVEN**

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_**Sin Two: Invidia**_

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Sometimes he hated the boy. Truly, deeply, fully.

And in such detestation the only thing he accomplished was a feeling of bitter loathing towards himself. How _dare_ he feel the way he did? After all, it certainly wasn't the **boy's** fault that he'd fallen into such a sweetly worded trap. It certainly wasn't the **boy's** fault that he was sickly and weak; that he was dying a slow death. It certainly wasn't the **boy's** fault that his sister loved him so much.

But if he couldn't blame Joshua, than who else _was_ there?

Chrono shifted guiltily on his pew, trying to swallow his silent spite.

He was awful, even as devils went. . . despising someone who had once worshiped him like a god. One who had once adored him. One who he had once adored. But childish innocence and timeless afternoons were no longer in existence anywhere but in their minds. Chrono wanted to save the child, he _**honestly** _did- but he couldn't stand his beloved Contractor's undying commitment to the past. In fact, she was so loyal to old memories that it felt like she didn't want to bother creating any new ones.

That frustrated him- frustrated him for so many reasons. But mainly because he loved her.

God, he loved her so much.

But it was hard- near impossible- to love someone as greatly as he did and live on without having his feelings returned; all attempts at a relationship ignored. It wasn't that she had rejected him- far from it. And even if she had, rejection he could deal with.

Rejection he could understand.

What fueled resentment and anger in the pit of his stomach was how Rosette could take any potentially romantic situation- any at all!- and change it within moments into a discussion about her little brother. To a speech on his salvation. To a pep talk.

At times like those, Chrono had to wonder if his eyes remained red.

**x**

_**Sin Two: Envy**_

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	3. Accidia

_Disclaimer: I don't own Chrono Crusade, but in some parallel universe. . . I probably still don't. _

_Author's Note: See chapter one._

_  
(A quick historical note- this sin wasn't always part of the seven. Originally its place was filled by 'tristia,' also known as 'sadness.' But because I'm sticking with the more modern list, I'm using accidia instead. Woo!) _

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**SEVEN**

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_**Sin Three: Accidia**_

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Her snores could, in and of themselves, wake the dead. Of this, he was certain.

"Rosette. . ." Chrono whispered loudly, placing his hands on his Contractor's abdomen and shoulder, respectively; shaking her with a strained smile on his face. "Rosette! Wakey wakey!"

A drowsy mumble was her only reply- rolling away from his prodding calls with a bubbling gurgle. A vein throbbed on the devil's forehead. Typical.

"Rosette," he tried again, more firmly than before, "I'm serious! Sister Kate is going to skin you alive if you're late!" He hopped beside her on the bed, vainly hoping that the jostling of the mattress would awaken her.

Sure. And the sky had suddenly become yellow and sprouted purple polka dots.

Sighing deeply, the demon flopped onto his back; partially collapsed over Rosette, partially sprawled upon her pillows. He purposely gave a minor spasm. But alas, even his uncomfortable and unexpected movements did nothing to help rouse her- instead the sister simply shuffled over, giving her companion some room.

After all, trying to wake her was tiring work. Perhaps she could lull him, too, into slumber. . . ?

The Sinner glared at the back of her blonde head. "_Oh no_, you're _not_ getting away with **that** again, girly girl," he grumbled, cheeks pinking when he remembered the last time he was stupid enough to fall under this Sleeping Fairy's spell. It had resulted in two weeks of kitchen and bathroom duty for the pair of them, as well as a private meeting between himself and the good Sister. She (and Father Remington) were both quite keen as to know why he had been found sleeping beside Rosette in his nightshirt. . . Needless to say, it hadn't been a very fun conversation.

"C'mon, up up up!" Chrono began once more, still lying beside her. Not having the energy to do anything more harsh, he started rapping his knuckles lightly upon the girl's forehead. She twitched, annoyed at the sensation. . .

. . . And consequently pulled the blankets over her head in retort.

"Dammit, Rosette!"

A small, sleepy snort of amusement- muffled by the quilts- met his pointed ears. His eyebrow ticked.

"Rosette," he began solemnly, pushing himself to his knees and looming over the lump that was his Contractor, "I will give you five seconds. If you do not get your lazy rear out of bed before I reach said number, I will have to do something I may later regret."

The bump of sheets stiffened slightly, intrigued and mildly worried.

"Five. . ."

Rosette, still half gone, seemed to be considering her options.

"Four. . ."

A tiny smirk formed on the devil's childish face. "_Threetwoone_." And with that, he attacked-

Tickling her for all she was worth.

"_ EEEYAAAAAAAAAAAA! **CHRONOOOOOOOOOOO!**_"

Yes, he mused- cackling evil as the nun began to scream and curse, fighting to move out of the way- he was definitely going to end up regretting this later. She was, undoubtedly, going to kill him. Slowly. But for now, at least, they were _both _having fun.

And he wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

**x**

_**Sin Three: Sloth**_

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	4. Ira

_Disclaimer: I don't own Chrono Crusade, but in some parallel universe. . . I probably still don't. _

_Author's Note: See chapter one. _

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**SEVEN**

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_**Sin Four: Ira **_

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He hated the light.

In fact, he hated anything that reminded him of _her_. The woman he loved so much. . . the woman he had killed. _She_ had been his light- the holy shine that filled his soul- and now that she was dead, there was no brightness left within him.

And that was how he wanted it.

Cold, empty, alone, and dark. For all of eternity. That was what he desired. That was what he deserved.

That was what he had submitted himself to.

He felt no regret for his decision- no longing for the outside world. Though the years passed slowly in his state of semi-slumber, filled with nothing but guilt and regret and the mournful dripping of icy ground water from somewhere far away- he did not wish to be free. No longer were his days filled with warmth and love. No longer did he care.

He was emotionless. He was dead.

And in some strange way, he was happy.

_At least I'm with you, Magdalene. . ._

But those decades of silent solitude were suddenly snatched from him without warning, without his consent, without his will. With only a tap of the strong stone doors, the two children stumbled inside- wide eyed and innocent and brimming with curiosity.

He abhorred them the moment their eyes met.

"Who's there? Who has awakened me?"

His voice cracked from lack of use, the glow seeping into the tomb blinding him. His stomach rolled in disgust at the light.

"Huh? Wh. . . who are _you_?"

A concerned tone, sweet and caring- free from the worries and horrors that the world pressed upon elders. She was a baby.

A baby and her brother had robbed him of his peace.

"My name is Chrono. I'm what you humans call a **demon**."

Go, go, go, he mentally urged- an unexpectedly desperate note tainting his cruel thoughts. Go and let me be! Part of him wanted to bare his fangs- to transform and frighten the brats away. . . but in his heart he knew he could never do that, no matter how completely he detested their presence there.

"This is a grave. So hurry up and lea. . . _urgh_!"

He felt himself collapse, not really processing the pain that shot through his childish disguise. Hurting no longer mattered to him. . . the hurt only reminded him that he was dying. And dying wasn't a bad thing. He had nothing left to live for, after all.

. . . Right? For all he cared, he could kick the bucket right then- perhaps that would send the two detestable kids away.

Right?

_Right?_

He started in mild surprise when he realized that he had no feelings to back up his insensitive statement. But. . . that wasn't possible.

. . . Did he really hate them?

Blinking slowly up into the girl's bright blue eyes, he found himself drowning in depths of the tender soul he discovered behind them. His fingers trembling, he accepted one of the sweets she offered.

"Th. . . thanks."

In that moment, a new boiling sensation began to course through his ancient veins; fueling a fire within him so great that he was sure it was going to consume him within moments.

Total animosity. . .

Towards himself.

_I'm so sorry, Magdalene. . . I betrayed you._

He allowed the children to lead him out into the light.

**x**

_**Sin Four: Anger**_

**x**

_(Note: Anger and wrath are interchangeable.) _


	5. Avaritia

_Disclaimer: I don't own Chrono Crusade, but in some parallel universe. . . I probably still don't. _

_Author's Note: See chapter one._

_(Warnings: A bit of Rosette OOCness, here. Or, at least, Rosette finally snapping. I can sort of see her doing this, actually. . . (;) _

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**SEVEN**

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_**Sin Five: Avaritia **_

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Sometimes she liked to watch him. Simply. . . watch him. Nothing more.

Usually while he slept, so he wouldn't feel her probing stares. Feel the _want_ behind her gaze as her blue pools traveled down his childish form; from his glossy locks to his delicate ears, his pale throat to his smooth chest. . .

The locks and ears and throat and chest that had all been touched up by Magdalene. . . by Satella. . . by her fellow sisters. . .

Fists clenched.

Something was growing within her. And she wasn't quite sure what.

Biting her tongue as she shifted on her side, Rosette tried to find a more comfortable position on the park bench; staring forever at the boy snoozing lightly beside her. The early summer sun beat down upon them- warm and cheerful. Children giggled and screamed in the background, playing silly games on the overgrown sod.

But her attention was a gift given to Chrono and Chrono alone.

Yes, sometimes she liked to watch him. Simply. . . watch him. Nothing more.

Other times, it wasn't enough.

Other times, she felt that she needed to re-stake her territory.

Reaching out a hand, the girl began to toy with the ends of his draping braid, keeping her eyes on his innocent smile. 'Mine. . . mine. . . mine. . .' She began her usual mental mantra, allowing her fingers to slide up one notch of the plait with each claim. 'Mine. . . . all mine. . .'

Smirking slightly as her palm brushed the nape of his neck, Rosette leaned foreword; crossing her ankles beneath her rear and licking her lips- tracing the outline of his face with the very tip of her nail. A blush had long since formed on her cheeks, but she ignored it- hiding her flashing orbs behind her golden bangs.

"Mine," she hissed selfishly into his elf-like appendage, nipping the lobe. The pocket watch shifted on her breasts. "And _no one elses_. Not Magdalene's or Satella's or Claire's or Anna's or Mary's. . ." She may have been a nun, but there was one thing she would _never_ share: Chrono.

He was **hers** and **hers** **_alone_**. . .

_Even_ if _he didn't like it._

**x**

_**Sin Five: Greed**_

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	6. Gula

_Disclaimer: I don't own Chrono Crusade, but in some parallel universe. . . I probably still don't. _

_Author's Note: See chapter one._

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**SEVEN**

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_**Sin Six: Gula **_

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"Down with the roll, down with the soup, and- _oh, I don't believe it! _The slab of roast is devoured _whole _within **two seconds flat**!"

Rosette, mouth bulging, shot the devil beside her a very sour look. He retorted with a bland stare of his own, still commentating into a spoon. "Is she finally slowing . . . ? _No! _She's just pausing to drown a glass of milk! One gulp, two gulp, three gulp- **vanished**! And now she's hacking up a lung, people! What a performance! I give it 9 stars and a Heimlich maneuver."

A vein throbbed on the blonde's forehead.

"_Gruooohno!_" she attempted to snarl, but the frightening effect she'd been hoping for was completely ruined by the fact that she was busily trying to swallow. Yes, her "scare appeal" was that of a bunny slipper's at the moment.

Another gag, a cough, and a very loud gulp later, she cleared her throat. _Better try that again. . ._

Chrono smiled dryly at the irritated expression on her face, leaning his chin against the back of his palm; twirling the bowled utensil expertly between his long fingers. "Hm? You _try _to say something?"

A real growl managing to fall from her lips this time, the nun dropped her fork and knife and attacked the demon's noggin, knuckling it furiously. "You shut up! Just 'cause I eat fast doesn't mean I'm _street show _material!"

The boy snorted. "You don't _eat_! You _inhale_!" he protested, writhing against her vice-like grip. Her expression grew darker.

"_CHRONO_!"

"**What**? Why are you mad at ME, you _vacuum_?"

"Because you're being rude!" she snapped, rapping him smartly with her fist. "And it looks like I'm going to have to teach you some _manners_!"

"HA! If you had any of **_those_** to **begin** with, _I wouldn't be having my head yanked off_!"

(People were beginning to stare, now. Not that Rosette or Chrono noticed, of course. Sister Kate, having run out of stomach medicine a few hours back, decided it would just be easier to ignore them for the time being. At least, until Remington got back from the pharmacy. . .)

The exorcist glowered, kneading her knuckles closer to his tender skull. He yelped. "Can it, you naughty little boy!"

"LITTLE?" he chortled coldly, slightly offended. "Let me remind you, missy, that I am over _100 years _your senior!"

"_Oh really_? Then why am _I _always the one that gets charged with pedophilia attempts?" the sister grumbled inaudibly.

". . ." Chrono blinked, sure he must have misheard. ". . . Huh?"

A blush formed on the young woman's cheeks. "N-nothing- and don't eavesdrop! It's RUDE."

"_Eavesdrop_?" he repeated dryly, a scowl tugging on his lips; gaze locking with his Contractor's. "What- while you talk to _yourself_?"

"Shut up!"

"No, YOU shut up!"

"No, _YOU _shut up!"

"No, **YO**-!"

"BOTH of you shut up!" Azmaria snapped, tousle haired and baggy eyed- glaring angrily up from her dinner. The pair silenced themselves instantly, shocked; frozen in a battle position. (The rest of the convent blew out their cheeks upon noticing this turn of events; relieved that the noise was gone, but also sort of sad that their entertainment had disappeared with it. All the same, Kate still desperately desired her medication. And some earplugs. Yes, earplugs would do quite nicely. . .) "Honestly!" the apostle sighed, wearily sipping her chicken broth as she turned away again. "Do you two _ever_ stop flirting? And here I thought _music_ was the food of love. . . not beef."

Neither had anything to say after that.

**x**

_**Sin Six: Gluttony**_

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	7. Luxuria

_Disclaimer: I don't own Chrono Crusade, but in some parallel universe. . . I probably still don't. _

_Author's Note: Well, I'll be. This is the last chapter. I don't think I've _ever_ finished a chapter fic so quickly before. Though I suppose this wasn't much of a chapter fic to begin with, ne? At least, not length wise, anyway. (sweat drop) Ah well. _

_Moving along, here you are- the chapter I know you've all been waiting for. (Oh, don't look at me like that. We both know it. Why'dya think I was waiting to do this one last, huh? (;) I do hope it meets expectations. I personally think this is the perfect place for them to. . . er "nookie". . . given their profession. . . (Ek! I'm so bad! (flushes deep magenta and smacks her own wrist)) _

_Well, thank you all so very much for reading! (: I can't believe how many reviews I got for this- I was sure I was only going to make twenty! (blush) I love you all! XD _

Hope you enjoy- and please continue to read my fics!

Hugs, Kisses, and Moon-Lit Nights,

_Maiden of the Moon_

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**SEVEN**

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_**Sin Seven: Luxuria **_

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_Sssft._

A match in the darkness; friction on friction.

_Ssss. . . _

Flickering into life, a candle awoke from its slumber. A single beacon in the blackness. Soon, another flame appeared- dancing on the tip of its wick. Then a third and a fourth. . . until the empty stone room was glowing eerily; overcast and a sinful shade of gray. All color was muted. All except. . .

Red. A demonic tint- devilish and deep. Two pools of the hue floated before her in the gloom. Glittering through the shadows like twin pools of molten lava, like sparkling coals in a heated pit. They ignited a fire within her.

Hellfire.

Burning as acid in the depths of her stomach, trickling down her pale thighs. She whimpered in involuntarily surprise, still holding the divine offerings in her hands.

". . ."

He smiled, staring at her from over his shoulder with his ebony lashes half-hiding his burning ruby orbs. An innocent gesture followed: crooked fingers, swishing locks, a whispered name.

She did as she was told.

They met at the hard marble alter mere second later; she on one side, he on the other. Footsteps echoing over the pews, they began to circle the holy table- placing flowers and blessed artifacts carefully upon it. Slender hands smoothed the linen cloth covering its surface.

Fixing a candelabra on the edge- his head tilt towards it- he locked a gaze upon her; a gaze that cut easily through his violet bangs and remained on her face. Memorizing it. Admiring it. Cherishing it. Worshiping it.

She cast him a glance, fingers trailing slowly up and down an ivory cross. Her ocean pools shone suggestively through the darkness; shock gone. Mischief had taken its place.

It was time to play. And she liked to play.

His eyes flashed. He liked to play, too.

The candles' steady light wavered.

A smug smirk tugging on the corners of her mouth, she allowed her tongue to dart out and moisten her full pink lips.

**_Play a game with me. . . _**

He growled, brow furrowing and canines bared. Taking two steps closer, he stopped before her- caging her with his arms between his chest and the edge of the altar. There was an expression on his face that she couldn't place: mysterious and haunted and longing and hungry- worthy of his name.

_Sinner_.

Butterflies that had once fluttered through her tummy had long since curled into ash, unable to take the heat coursing through her veins. A moan tumbled from her throat, ending in a breathy pant as his clawed hands dug suddenly into her hips-

And his lips sealed over her own. She immediately responded, wrapping her shapely legs around his waist and lacing her hands in his plait; falling with him upon the icy surface of the chantry behind her.

Fire. She was on fire. It was consuming her, swallowing her- as cruel and scorching as the flames of eternal damnation. He felt it, too- the sensation of being burnt by every brushing touch. And he, like she, didn't want the feeling to stop. Didn't _ever _want to cool down again.

Clothing was torn off frantically, the heat only growing.

A glass shattered, spilling blood-wine over the floor.

Neither noticed.

The flower vase fell with a dull crack, roses and lilacs spilling everywhere.

She gasped, arching and writhing even more.

Communion bread scattered the length of the room when with a flick of her wrist she smacked the basket aside. Relics and crosses tumbled over, the sounds of their falls reverberating off of the thick walls. The candelabra tilted dangerously, slipping off entirely when the altar cloth was forcibly yanked- his hands automatically clenching the course cloth in pleasurable pain.

Sweat glistened on his tanned skin; her flesh covered in bleeding cuts and shallow punctures. She cried for an increase in his actions, tangling them in the sanctified sheet. Over and over and over again. . . hearts one, minds one, souls one, bodies one. And then she screamed for _him_- and _he_ for _her_, collapsing upon her moist breasts with silent gasps and pants, the fire only partly extinguished.

They exchanged glances, their eyes as red as Hell itself.

"_More_."

He grinned.

And then he complied.

Damnation.

Merciless damnation.

Sweet, eternal, merciless damnation would befall them both for such naughty, dirty sins.

_But neither could care less. _

**x**

_**Sin Seven: Lust**_

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